


Don't Go

by Dissipating_Mango



Category: Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends
Genre: Dubious Consent, Extremely Underage, Humiliation, Jealousy, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissipating_Mango/pseuds/Dissipating_Mango
Summary: Mac can get a little possessive of his best friend sometimes...
Relationships: Bloo/Mac (Foster's Home)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> This is just smut, Mac is 8 years old, fiction is fiction, dont like don't read, yada yada yada. Enjoy

The silent image of the TV on standby cut through Mac's mindless watching session. 

"UGH! Stupid piece of junk!" Bloo whined. He jumped up from the couch where he was slouching and kicked the side of the screen; whimpering when he hit a little too hard. " _Why_ doesn't _anything_ EVER get replaced around here!?" 

"Madame Foster isn't made of money Bloo," Mac responded. "And as far as I know, she's the sole proprietor _and_ patron of the house." 

"Well then why don't we get another pro-pie-eater. I can eat pies." 

Mac sighed. 

"If you want to bring money into the house, you need donations," he explained. "Frankie said that Foster's is non-profit and that's why her salary is so 'ridiculously small considering all the blankety blank work she does'." He frowned, noticing Bloo not paying attention in the slightest. "Are you listening to me?" 

"Yeah yeah, Frankie is poor, whatever." 

"So I guess you'd have to find someone with money who cares about imaginary friends," Mac finished. 

"Oh! Like that one really rich kid, what was his name..." Bloo trailed off, waving his hand in thought. "Barry!" He suddenly exclaimed. 

"Barry wasn't real," Mac groaned. 

It had been months but no matter how he explained it, no meaningful string of words could seem to get through to his bouncy blue creation. "Remember? It was Berry." 

"I _already_ know his NAME. I'm thinking that maybe I could arrange something, you know. Like a pay-to-play service!" 

"A... What?" 

"Like for 10 dollars I'll be his friend for an hour, 20 for two, you know," Bloo smiled. "Like that! And then I can use that money to get BETTER things and I won't have to worry about using all the broken and useless junk _here_!" 

Mac stood frozen in shock. "What!? But, you can't just pay someone to be your friend, that's not how that works!" 

"Uh, that's totally how it works. Everything in this world has a price Mac!" He danced over, with all the practiced sleaze of a veteran salesman and wrapped an arm around Mac. "And mine is 10 bucks an hour! Maybe more, do you think that's too low? How much would you spend on me?" 

"Nothing because I created you!" Mac spoke through grit teeth. He knocked Bloo's hand off his shoulder. 

"You're right, I'm thinking about this all wrong. I should heckle Barry until we settle on the highest bid! I'm selling myself short with hourly rates, maybe I should just be put on retainer..." 

"No!" Mac yelled suddenly, much to the surprise of both Bloo and himself. He blinked, taking a deep breath, and started over. "You're my imaginary friend Bloo. And Barry wasn't even a real kid, so you can't get money out of him."

"Geez, fine, if you say so," Bloo mumbled. "I guess I can try to find the _second_ richest kid in town since Barry is off limits or something." 

"It's not about him being ' _off limits_ ', you can't sell yourself to ANY kids," Mac said, seething. The thought of some other child, with their grubby unwashed hands getting his blue figure all sticky, dragging him around and giggling with their stupid chipped baby teeth. 

"Oh yeah?" Bloo taunted, crossing his arms. "What are you gonna do to stop me? I have a right to run a business you know." 

Mac paused, thinking over his words carefully. 

"Fine, if it's so important to you, then maybe I won't come back." 

"Wha?"

"If I'm so easy to replace, then, maybe you are too," Mac shrugged, staring at the ground. "I guess our friendship doesn't mean that much to you after all. I'll just go home after school tomorrow. Hopefully you don't get adopted." Hot blood coursed through Mac's veins and he held back a grin. 

"See you later Bloo." 

One step, two steps, oh he didn't need to look back to know what kind of expression was invading Bloo's face. He fiddled his fingers as he walked, as if holding an invisible remote that could change his dearest friend's channels on a whim. The warm snare of Bloo's arms around his ankle felt like victory. 

"Hey! Wait! I didn't mean that Mac, you gotta believe me!" He babbled. "I was just tossing ideas out there, you know? Of course you're my one and only, I would never be best friends with any other kid, any other PERSON!" The floor was rough, no way it was comfortable being dragged against it. "And besides, it's not like I wanted to be friends with anyone else, it'd be a purely professional relationship! They don't mean anything to me, not the way _you_ do! It's just a means to an end! Just a job!" He held on tighter. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry—"

"What are you sorry for?" Mac questioned. 

"Everything!" Bloo cried. "I'm horrible, I'm a despicable friend! I'm selfish and shallow and awful, I don't think about you enough, you're so much better than me in every way! I'll never be as smart and caring and handsome and perfect as you are Mac!" 

He kicked Bloo off his leg, a little rough, like one would flick a speck of dust crowding an otherwise clean surface. 

"Please forgive me!" His nubby hands were pressed together in a prayer and he shuffled on his knees, trying to get closer to Mac. "I'll do anything!" 

Unable to pull him by an ear or grab him by his face, Mac hooked his thumb into his pouting mouth and forced his gaze upwards. 

"Anything?" 

"Ennyshing."

Bloo's tongue was soft and wet, Mac pressed his thumb into it and ran across the edges of his teeth. Even his sharpest points were dull and almost had a give to them; not a single part of Bloo was any firmer than a rubber tire. 

A couple years back, Mac's mom had caught them vigorously cuddling in bed together. A week later and the bunk bed frame was constructed, finished, and filled with mattresses. He was told under no circumstance should they be caught doing anything like that ever again, it was not something to be proud of. 

Mac looked back down at his friend. At the shameful remorse painted from cheek to cheek.

Slowly, he pushed his other fingers into his mouth and spread his lips open. 

"Do you remember when we used to sleep together?" He whispered. 

Bloo's eyes widened as Mac's fingers explored the insides of his mouth. His gaze fell to the display directly in front of him, a not so unfamiliar change in the crotch of his pants. 

"Yeshh." 

"Good." 

He pulled his hand away, fingers wet with spit, and unzipped the front of his pants, pooling his underwear and jeans around his ankles. It felt powerful sticking his fingers in Bloo's mouth, and he knew from experience rubbing against his velveteen body made him tingly. It didn't take long for his budding mind to put two and two together. 

The tip of his cock pressed against Bloo's pliant lips. He looked up at Mac with big eyes, and kissed the small, pink head, poking his tongue out intuitively. 

" _Ah!_ " 

Mac whimpered as his friend placed wet little pecks all along his cock. Bloo licked the tip indulgently, like a lollipop. Or maybe like an immature child claiming something as his. Whatever sense of remorse he had seemed to dissipate as he continued, movements less of an apology and more of a smug example of ownership. 

But _Mac_ was the one who owned _him_. 

Without thinking, he grabbed Bloo by the back of his head and shoved the entirety of his length in his mouth. It wasn't very big—but neither was Bloo—and the sudden force had him gagging.

Bloo was his. Bloo was his. Bloo was _his_.

"You're mine," Mac growled. "Mine, mine, mine." 

He humped Bloo's face like an old pillow, getting lost in the warmth and soft wetness of his mouth. Every time he started to slow down, his mind flashed pictures of Bloo with other kids. 

Tea parties. Frisbee games. See-saws. Barry's house.

"You're m-my friend!" He stammered, overwhelmed with emotion. Being brokenly furious never felt this good before. "I own you! Nobody else! N-nobody else gets this!" 

This. He pictured Bloo, down on his knees in front of some other child. A faceless child. Pulling down their pants and eagerly pressing kisses between their legs like he was their fucking lover. 

"You love me," Mac choked. "You love me so much, you think I'm better than you. You'd do a-anything for me" 

Bloo nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks from tightly shut eyes while Mac used his throat. Muffled words vibrated around his cock and he relished in the physical sensation manifested from Bloo's grovelling. 

A tight, tangled feeling swirled in his tummy. Not entirely unfamiliar, he had felt this odd tingling before, but now it was so much stronger. It felt breathless and weighty, and like he had to pee really bad. He whimpered. Too much, too much...

He folded over Bloo, clinging to him while his legs shook and he rode out his first orgasm. 

A cough from Bloo when he pulled out, drool dripping from his lips. Mac felt unsteady on his feet, putting his pants back on was hard. He felt like laughing. Or crying. Or nothing at all. So he sat down. 

"Do you still hate me?" Bloo whined in a raspy voice. 

"No." Mac shuffled closer and pulled him into a hug. "No no no, c'mere, I don't hate you." 

"Am I a bad friend?" 

" _No_ ," Mac whispered. Cradled him closer, curled into him like the blanket his genesis was. "No, you're the best friend ever Bloo, you're my best friend." 

"The best?" He blinked, a small smile beginning to form. He snuggled into Mac, mutual frustrations melting away. 

"The best, forever and ever."


End file.
